


Negotiations

by ladydragon76



Series: Down a Notch... Or Eight [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:05:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> There’s a trade agreement that needs agreeing on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** Notch  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Characters:** Megatron/Optimus Prime  
>  **Warning:** None  
>  **Notes:** Number two from the prompt orgy! Prompt: “You know, once. JUST ONCE. I’d like it if you made things easy for me. ONCE!”  
> 

“You know, once. _Just. Once._ I’d like it if you made things easy for me. **_Once_**!”

Optimus smirked, optics gleaming in amusement as he held Megatron's attempt at an irritated glare.

"You're hopeless! You'd let those humans dictate every bit of the trade agreement if I let you!"

Optimus shook his helm, and relaxed back in his chair. "We don't need much from Earth anymore, but they do need things from us. I'm just trying to help them along."

Megatron snorted, pacing. "Greedy flesh creatures. I do not see why you insist on dealing with them at all. Just _give_ away our scientific knowledge." He threw his hands in the air.

"You know that would not be wise. They are a young species. We should guide and assist, not gift. And I keep open relations with all the peoples we know because one never knows when we might actually need something, or learn something to benefit us all. We have a poor reputation in the galaxy right now. Trade is good for public relations." Optimus grinned as Megatron dropped into a chair with a roll of his optics.

"You're doing it on purpose!"

"What's that?" Optimus asked benignly.

Red optics narrowed, and Optimus held up his hands in surrender. "Not my fault you're fun to tease."

Those same red optics brightened, then darkened to a richer crimson. "As are you," Megatron purred.

"We have a trade agreement to come to terms with."

"As I am aware." Megatron scooted his chair close to Optimus' and leaned forward, fingertips gliding up the front of Optimus' thigh. "I'm negotiating."

Heat thrilled through Optimus' systems, and he arched an optic ridge. "Is that what this is?"

“It is now,” Megatron nodded, a smirk of his own quirking the corner of his mouth up. "I will agree to sending Starscream's trine to help train the human pilots, _if_ you-"

"Not the Crystal Gardens."

Megatron's hand froze in its journey upward, a frown marring his face. Optimus knew better than to call it a pout. "I like the way your voice makes them ring."

Optimus face burned at the memory. "So did everyone in audial range." He shook his helm when Megatron's mouth opened. "And not the beach either. In fact, nowhere public."

Megatron sat back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest. "I am convinced that you enjoy being difficult and contrary on purpose."

Optimus chuckled, reconsidering. "There's always the astronomy museum." It was dark at least. Megatron's face lit in interest. "But I’m muting my vocalizer."

Megatron huffed. “Fine.”


End file.
